Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .

these days

tomorrow is another chance

but what about today?

11/29/2022                                                                                                               j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

Morning fog limits perspective.
As much surprise as wonder,
as isolating as illuminating,
we naturally want to see further.
Your vantage point stays the same.
Captivated throughout the day,
you may well stand where you are,
only the focal point broadens.Daylight eventually finds its way,
you can easily see the difference.
Darkness will come, it always does,
the view will be different tomorrow.
11/28/2022                                                                                                                                                                                        j.g.l.

be content

hold the image
speak the silence
feel the clarity

11/27/2022                                                                                                                 j.g.l.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
other times
dull or
Still I write.

j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.

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3:37 A.M.

Posted on June 10, 2017 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

3:37 a.m.

I wake.
I wake often at 3:37. Desires inspired
in Illuminated darkness
and hunger.
I want ice cream
with you.
Half asleep,
wholly consumed, vacant dreams,
your voice shows through.
Unusually delusional.
Familiar image,
tussled hair,
threadbare kimono
and comfort.

Front stoop shadow at 3:56. I show up
with ice cream and excuses.
You with questions, and
sleep in your eyes.
Silently nothing happens.
Lawns hiss, lamppost shines on
streets bereft of motion.
Come closer.
Dreadfully dead humidity
and well-weathered wicker
leaves an
impression on
bare legs.

You stultify my banter, caution me not
to laugh so loud or I’ll wake up
the neighbours.
I tell you I don’t care
who hears us or
who sees us
through this heat.
The ice cream
is melting. 4:24,
you take
the spoon and the last mouthful
dribbles down
your chin.

Not caring, or even daring, that neighbours
might find you on top of a shadow
on the front lawn at 4:37.
Ice cream tub
discarded on the grass.
Liberated illumination.
Spoon still
in your
mouth, you are
and dripping
on me.

©2017 j.g. lewis

Poem Kubili is an international
companionship of poets with
a common love of writing and
reading poetry. To
of the group’s collected works

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